


Going Home

by geekyyoungblood



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, a tiny bit of angst, only a little though, they are in love, witcherphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyyoungblood/pseuds/geekyyoungblood
Summary: "Drawn by the joy of the moment, Aiden begins to move towards him with swift steps, having to force himself not to break into a run, he’s here, he’s here! In return, Lambert gets out of his chair, and they meet halfway through the room. As soon as Lambert is finally, finally, within Aiden’s reach, Aiden pulls him into his arms, his right hand finding its way into his hair almost immediately, holding him impossibly close. Lambert, in return, pushes his face into the crook of Aiden’s neck, and Aiden can feel Lambert’s muscles untensing under his hands, hears the unusually rapid beating of his heart. Aiden turns his head to the right to bury his nose and mouth in Lambert’s hair, inhaling deeply, honeysuckle and steel and wood making him feel like he’s home. He feels his own muscles untense in return, as he relaxes into Lambert’s hold."Or, Aiden finds Lambert on the path. They take care of each other.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a bunch of headcanons that I dumped in the Transgendering at Kaer Morhen discord at Aaron's request, and then I decided to turn it into a fic. So here we are! Massive thanks to Aaron (IndigoDream on AO3, go check him out, he's awesome) for betaing and helping me out with a bunch of things (providing the fic title, among other things) as well as generally being incredibly supportive, this one is for you dear <3 Also thank you to Jay for providing me with a town name, and also thank you the whole server for being so nice and supportive, I adore you all.

“You won’t find any work here, Witcher.”

Aiden instinctively tenses up at the comment, bracing himself for a resentful rant on how his kind is not welcome here. But on second thought, he realizes that the voice reaching his ears from the other side of the main street that runs through the marketplace is conversational rather than hostile in tone. When he turns his head he notes that the saleswoman to whom the voice belongs is watching him with a friendly expression, not a trace of fear or anger on her face. His muscles untense, his shoulders dropping and fists unclenching, He offers her a small smile in return. “Is that so?”

The woman, who looks about forty and has an impressive assortment of meat spread out on her marketstand, nods, looking almost like she pities him. “We haven’t had a problem with monsters around here in years, blessed be the gods. Our only issue is the rats, but I’m assuming they’re below your paygrade. And your dignity.” She chuckles. “Big swords meant for big things, isn’t it?” She nods her head at the two swords strapped to his back.

Aiden huffs a genuine laugh, not sure if the woman had intended for that to be an innuendo. “Something like that, yes.” Encouraged - it’s been so long since someone spoke to him like this - he then continues: “You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find work, then?”

The woman purses her lips in contemplation, then shakes her head. “Afraid not. The only place nearby I know has seen monsters lately is Aermadus - that’s the next town over - and the last I heard they already hired one of yours to take care of that problem. He left to take down the beast as late as this morning, if I’m not mistaken.”

Aiden’s eyes widen slightly, his lips curving upwards on their own accord. It’s been months since he saw another witcher, meaning he hasn’t had any real company for as long - and might he even be so lucky that this is not just any witcher? “Really?”

His excited smile is mirrored in the woman’s face, and she nods. “Uh-huh. Anyone you know, by any chance?” There’s a knowing tone to her voice, and he might have felt embarrassed had her presence not been so grounding. She’s the kind of person who just makes him feel comfortable, without really doing anything.

“Might be,” he says. “What did he look like?”

“I haven’t been told, but they said he was from the school of the wolf. Bit of a grumpy fellow; always had his claws out, if you know what I mean. Told the alderman he was going to come back later and switch out his tea leaves for a slow acting poison. They said it was unprovoked, but I personally suspect the alderman had been acting rather rude. He does have a history of it, especially with you lot.”

Aiden’s heart speeds up slightly. That witcher can’t be just anyone. He grins at the saleswoman. “Yeah, that sounds like someone I know. Aermadus, that’s close by, you said?”

“Two hours’ walk straight down the road. You can’t miss it.”

“Brilliant. Thank you so much. Oh, and that meat looks excellent, may I..?”

He ends up buying what probably makes up about half a pig before he’s on his way. He loses a not insignificant amount of his coin in the process, but so what? He’s always been a people person, and this woman has been delightful company.

He gets to Aermadus in what seems to be a little less than two hours (he likes to think so, at least). He values the little time he can get with his man while on the path, taking each chance he can get to meet up with him in inns and taverns and back alleys. Each time he gets word that there is another witcher nearby he comes running, but he doesn’t always make it in time. So he hurries. The sun is getting low, and if Lambert headed out this morning he probably finished the job several hours ago. He might have stuck around for a meal and some rest, and if Aiden is lucky he might even have decided to stay the night, but there’s no way of knowing that. Maybe Lambert is short on coin, or the local innkeeper isn’t particularly fond of witchers. Or he could have simply been anxious to get going again.

However it may be, Aiden reaches the town before sunset. He notes that most of the people walking by him as he enters it pass over to the other side of the street, or take care to walk in a large circle around him; some of them giving suspicious glances, others keeping theirs fixed on the ground. He’s used to ignoring it, but it’s not exactly helping his worries regarding Lambert.

He spots a young man who doesn’t appear too afraid or hostile and stops him. “I’ve been told a witcher took on a contract here today?”

The man nods, his long brown curls bouncing slightly, and is even brave enough to flash Aiden a small smile. “Your boy took down a kikimora for us this morning.”

“Is he still here?”

Another nod. “I saw him at the inn earlier. Don’t think he’s left.”

Aiden can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Where’s the inn?”

“Down the street. You can’t miss it.”

The inn is, indeed, hard to miss: after a couple of minutes’ worth of walking Aiden finds himself standing before a large, two-floor building, the unmistakable scent of cooking meat and porridge surrounding the place like a thick fog. As he enters, he searches for that familiar blend of steel, wood smoke, leather and honeysuckle, but the food and all the other thousands of scents of the room blend into a nondescript mass, making individual scents indistinguishable. As soon as he’s through the door he uses his eyes instead, scanning the large dining hall before him. It’s average enough; a room filled with wooden tables occupied by large, loud, bearded men and conservatively dressed women. It’s almost packed, and apparently it’s late enough in the evening for the patrons to have started drinking, large jugs of ale being passed along the tables as their faces grow redder by the minute.

The small crowd is all Aiden can see, until he notices that it grows thinner and thinner as it approaches a corner in the far back, a corner the patrons have made sure to keep at a table’s distance at the very least. The sneaking suspicion of what that might mean comes upon him in equal measures of bitterness and excitement, and then he sees the dark hair, the pale face, the scars. 

Lambert is leaning over the table, head bowed down in a pose that Aiden knows means he’s trying to hide, to not draw attention to himself - though it’s not like Lambert would ever admit that if he were asked - an empty plate in front of him. He’s got one hand resting on a mug of what Aiden assumes is ale, gaze alternating between the crowd and, more frequently, the tabletop.

Some of the patrons sneak suspicious glances at Aiden, too; turning and walking the other way when they see him, or making sure to keep their distance when they walk through the door. 

He doesn’t care all that much when it’s him, though. When it’s Lambert, however, it’s a different story. 

His concern doesn’t cancel out the overwhelming joy, though, and he smiles, stopping and waiting for a moment, his eyes never leaving Lambert. He doesn’t want to approach him straight away, knows that Lambert will see him soon anyway, wants to see his face when he realizes. And before long, Lambert looks up, and a pair of glistening yellow eyes meet Aiden’s own. 

The yellow eyes widen, and in the next moment Lambert breaks into a grin that makes Aiden’s own widen; a grin that chases the haunted look off his face and makes him look healthier, younger, more alive. The fact that Aiden has the ability to cause that in him is still unfathomable.

Drawn by the joy of the moment, Aiden begins to move towards him with swift steps, having to force himself not to break into a run, he’s here, he’s here! In return, Lambert gets out of his chair, and they meet halfway through the room. As soon as Lambert is finally, finally, within Aiden’s reach, Aiden pulls him into his arms, his right hand finding its way into his hair almost immediately, holding him impossibly close. Lambert, in return, pushes his face into the crook of Aiden’s neck, and Aiden can feel Lambert’s muscles untensing under his hands, hears the unusually rapid beating of his heart. Aiden turns his head to the right to bury his nose and mouth in Lambert’s hair, inhaling deeply, honeysuckle and steel and wood making him feel like he’s home. He feels his own muscles untense in return, as he relaxes into Lambert’s hold.

They part before long, but Lambert presses his forehead to Aiden's and whispers, in a voice so quiet only their enhanced hearing can pick up the exact words: "I’ve got a room upstairs."

On a lot of days, that would probably be an invitation. But Lambert’s tone is tired, affectionate, almost pleading, and he’s no longer smiling. It makes Aiden worry, but the prospect of a quiet evening does sound tempting - he’s tired, and he’s happy with simply having Lambert with him, keeping him close.

He nods, and leans back, smiling slightly. He tilts his head to the side, putting a gentle finger under Lambert’s chin, gently coaxing him to look up. Hey, are you alright? it says. Lambert gives a small smile in return, taking Aiden’s hand in his own and giving it a reassuring squeeze before carefully stepping away from him, turning and moving towards the staircase at the other end of the room. They have to walk through the crowd to get there, and as they move it parts for them like tide breaking from the shore, the patrons taking three steps back the instant they see the two witchers coming. Lambert glares angrily, but Aiden sees the way his shoulders slump, the way he closes in on himself. In the staircase they meet a barmaid who, while not visibly repelled by them, keeps her gaze fixed on something invisible far ahead of her as they pass by. After, Aiden spots her throwing a quick look over her shoulder in the corner of his eye.

Lambert’s room is close to the stairs, and when the door closes behind them, Aiden feels a tension he hadn’t even been aware of crumble between the two of them. He exhales deeply, unstrapping the case holding his swords from his back and goes to place it at the far end of the room, leaning against the wall. By the opposite wall there’s a bed, and it’s not until then that Aiden suddenly realizes he hasn’t sat down since midday. He goes to take a seat on the bed (they’re way past asking each other for permission for things like that by now - the moment they’re together they just coexist, moving around in each other’s space like it’s nothing), but before he gets there Lambert moves in front of him, and he stops in his tracks. Lambert still doesn’t look fully like himself, but he looks better; more relaxed, a little more energized. He raises a hand, gently touching the leather armour covering Aiden’s left shoulder. “Let me take this for you, first?”

Aiden nods, a small smile gracing his lips, and Lambert begins to work at the knots tying Aiden's armour to his body. Not for the first time Aiden is struck by how gentle he is, marvels at how those are the same hands that can take down a monster with a single strike.

He watches Lambert as best he can from where he's standing, and when the first part of the armour is untied, Lambert looks up to meet his eye. Once he's carefully slid the shoulder piece off, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to Aiden's lips, tangling his free hand in his hair. The contact reminds Aiden, again, of just how desperately he's missed Lambert, and he tugs him in closer, returning his kisses almost desperately.

When they break apart for a moment, Aiden whispers: "I missed you", before pressing a soft, brief kiss to Lambert's lips. Lambert sighs, leaning in to capture Aiden's lips again, dropping the shoulder piece onto the floor, leaving it lying there.

A moment later they part long enough that Lambert can continue to untie Aiden's armour, but as he's doing so, he leans in close again and murmurs: "I missed you too."

The rest of the armour is quickly discarded, and Aiden stretches a bit, glad to be free of it. He strokes a bit of Lambert's hair away from his eyes, cupping his hands around his face and kissing his forehead softly. Lambert leans into his touch, putting his arms around Aiden, and so they remain. Aiden spends a few moments just reveling in it, taking Lambert in, enjoying his presence. Then he murmurs: "Bed?"

Lambert nods, moving back to dispose of his shoes; Aiden does the same.

They settle into their regular position; Lambert on his back, Aiden half on top of him, his head resting on Lambert's chest. Lambert's fingers once again find their way into Aiden's hair, combing through softly through the lengths, almost absentmindedly.

They spend a few minutes in comfortable silence, but then Aiden is itching to hear what Lambert has been up to since they last saw each other. He always wants to ask about that when they run into each other; it’s making up for lost time, he supposes. The contract Lambert took today seems like a good place to start.

"So I hear you took care of a little pest problem around here?" he murmurs, half-muzzled from where his face is pressed into Lambert’s chest.

"Nothing special," Lambert says, absentmindedly. "A kikimora. A decent way away from the town and the road, even. But the alderman was concerned by it, and he offered a good amount of coin, so what can you do?" 

Aiden huffs a laugh. "Had more such luck lately?" 

Lambert is quiet for a moment, then sighs. “Not exactly.”

There's something heavy to his voice, and Aiden frowns, pulling him a little closer for good measure. "No?"

Lambert shakes his head. "This particular part of the continent has been dreadfully void of monsters lately." He pauses, seemingly a little reluctant to speak again. "And it just so happens that some of the towns around here aren't too keen on having witchers roaming about the neighbourhood."

There’s a pang in Aiden’s chest, despite the amount of times they've both been through this. He strokes his thumb across Lambert's wrist, over and over, in soothing circles. "That's shit."

"Yeah." Lambert swallows. Then he smiles a bit, tugging lightly at Aiden, urging him to move up. Aiden follows his lead, still a bit worried - maybe he should get Lambert to talk about who hurt him, get it off his chest - moving so that he's hovering over Lambert. Lambert cups his hands around Aiden’s face, eyes wandering up and down it. "Good thing it's winter soon, eh? No being bothered by these bastards anymore."

Aiden hates that his heart aches a little at that, at the thought that Lambert will be leaving him again soon. The winters are always hard. Of course, it makes the reunion each spring so much sweeter, but now, years down the line, he’s beginning to wonder whether that small comfort really is worth all the longing.

He knows he can't ask for any more than what they already have, though. Lambert doesn’t open up easily, took years before he even dared to begin to get closer to Aiden. If Aiden misuses the trust that he’s so kindly been given, he will never forgive himself.

So instead, he leans down to kiss Lambert again, like maybe if he does he'll get to keep him. "I am ecstatic, my love," he tells him, voice mockingly dramatic. They often joke like that. Some of his worry must have shone through, though, because Lambert's smile fades a bit, his touch softening.

He nudges Aiden down for another kiss, one that seems intended to comfort. Then he watches Aiden again, a frown on his face, as though he's thinking very deeply about something. Aiden, for once, can't quite read him, and that frustrates him, so he busies his fingers with Lambert's hair, trying to give him time.

After what feels like several minutes, Lambert pulls him close, close, until their foreheads are touching, until he doesn't quite have to look Aiden in the eye, and he closes his eyes. Aiden hears Lambert’s heartbeat speed up, and he slows down his ministrations with his hair, trying to soothe him, because whatever Lambert is about to say is clearly not easy for him. It worries Aiden, because what might that even be? They talk to each other about everything.

Lambert takes a long breath in, then out. Then he murmurs: "Come with me." His voice is so quiet a non-enhanced ear would have trouble picking the words up.

Aiden's own heart speeds up a bit - he's got a pretty good idea of what exactly it is that Lambert is asking for, but he can't be certain. "Hmm?"

"Come with me. To Kaer Morhen, for the winter.” Lambert’s eyes flicker between Aiden and something invisible behind him, breathing quickening a little. “There are so few of us there anyway, it's not like there isn't room..."

Lambert interrupts his own nervous ramble as his eyes get caught on the grin that spreads across Aiden's face. Aiden pulls back so he can properly look at him; the hair spread out against the pillow, the anxious look in his gorgeous eyes. Aiden can't believe he's real. "You'll let me? I mean, I wouldn't want to bother-"

"You won't. Gods, love, of course you won't." Lambert visibly relaxes, moving his hands to Aiden's face again. "You'll be more than welcome. They'll love you."

Aiden allows himself to, for a moment, get lost in the thought of several months spent with Lambert never further away than the next room over, of being able to fall asleep and wake up next to him every day. Of not having to settle for brief encounters across the continent and the occasional few weeks spent walking the path together. His heart soars, and he leans down and kisses him, and this time Lambert keeps him there, making the kiss last far longer than originally intended. When they break apart, Aiden tells him: "Of course I'll come with you. Of course."

Lambert grins, dragging a finger across Aiden’s cheek. “Good.” His voice is a breathless, happy whisper.

Aiden leans down again, presses a trail of kisses across Lambert’s forehead. Thinks about how much this demanded of Lambert, how much it took for him to ask the question. It makes his heart ache with adoration, makes him wonder what he did to earn that sort of trust. “I’m so glad you asked,” he whispers into Lambert’s skin, pressing a featherlight kiss to it just after. “Thank you.”

Lambert’s hands shift, caressing down Aiden’s neck. “Don’t mention it,” he murmurs, drawing little circles with his fingers. 

Aiden smiles slightly, shifting his position so that he’s lying on his side next to Lambert. He moves a hand to take one of Lambert’s, pressing a soft kiss to the knuckles. “If you say so, pup.” The nickname had started as a sarcastic counter to Lambert’s equally sarcastic “kitten”, but both names have somehow stuck around throughout the years. “Now you should sleep, hmm? You look worn out.” 

Lambert rolls his eyes, but smiles, shifting over to his side to face Aiden. “Hmm, bossy.”

“You’re the one always complaining when you haven’t slept,” Aiden teases, running the fingertips of his free hand across Lambert’s forehead. 

“Yeah, yeah. If you behave like this all winter I’m throwing you off the mountain.”

“Oh gods, I’m terrified. Now sleep, love.”

Lambert huffs, but doesn’t say anything. Aiden can feel his smile when Lambert settles against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting this at 2am so if any typos or other weird stuff snuck into the fic I am so sorry
> 
> Comments and kudos are ofc very much appreciated! I'm also on tumblr under the url yourlettersinthesand, feel free to come and have a look!


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